


The Emptiness of Arms

by thecabinet



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Arms, Chakotay - Freeform, Comfort, Embrace, Hurt, Kathryn Janeway - Freeform, Night, STV, Stars, Voyager, j/c - Freeform, janeway-chakotay, jc - Freeform, star trek voy, star trek voyager - Freeform, void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecabinet/pseuds/thecabinet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>J/C. At 0300, silence has fallen, but his arms call to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Emptiness of Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a scene from "Sweet Home Alabama".

Sometimes the silence of space was the loudest of all, crippling one with its deafening power of amplifying the mind’s deepest and darkest wisps of thoughts wishing only to be buried further, rather than suffer at the hard hands of mute, cold silence. One’s tacit reverie became like crashing boulders of the Symplegades, and a tintinnabulous undulation of incoherent thought became turgid prose of a hopeless voyager, subject to the void of a timeless and wordless existence.

Sometimes a single word would be all that was needed to push through the barrier. Or perhaps a light press of a door buzzer, allowing an individual into a bubble of existence that contained more hope that she herself could muster. That being would walk into a world not of emaciated warmth, but of an incomprehensible refuge, filled with the scent of cinnamon and stardust.

She wasn’t aware of the time, rather she didn’t comprehend that at 0300 not all crew members would still be awake. Nevertheless, as she walked down the corridor and mindlessly pressed the buzzer once, before keying in an override code, it was those arms that pushed her away from the darkness, overhanging and threatening to bear down on her, encasing her in a shadowless shade. 

Despite her expectations, she was met with the dim light of a candle inhaling and exhaling an invisible wind. The hypnotising light beckoned her gaze away from their original destination as she paused in her hesitant stance. Unsure, unmoving as she wondered how the curious beacon could convey so much more than illuminating the inconsistencies of a damned world. Perhaps it was just her age catalysing her philosophical mood, or the sweet, tender pull of unwanted memories tugging her mind down a long abandoned path. She didn’t register the weight of another touch, if only by that of mahogany eyes upon blue lace agate and falling rain. 

“Kathryn,” his voice was softer than silence, lighter than air, yet it still knocked her breathless. Her eyes flew to his, and became very much aware of her current state. Tendrils of hair, lack of robe revealing nothing but a large shirt and loose pants. Of course, he wasn’t one to judge, as he was wearing a t shirt and presumably sweats. Such an odd command team they were. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” she said lightly, with the air of an aloof mask; the poise of a captain. It was the pain he saw in her eyes that defied her, if he were only looking at her face. 

“Neither could I.” he rose from his desk, shut the computer and gestured for her to join him on the couch. Neither noticed at first how close she had taken a position next to him, until she found herself leaning against him and breathing deeply.

“Chakotay.” the way she spoke his name was like a gentle caress, a sigh that echoed the tired defeat of a weaponless warrior; at this point in time, she was not the Captain, nor was she the Kathryn that he knew. Rather, she was the Kathryn that she knew, one of exposed and raw emotion, so rare it was like seeing the freezing lakes of Beh’tarhn in summer. At that moment, she was Kathryn, and he knew he had to be her Chakotay.

“My dog is probably dead.” 

He was not expecting that, nor was he prepared for her proceeding harsh and single laugh. 

“I left her. In the kennel. She was expecting puppies, you know? But...he... told me that he had her. I promised her I’d be back in a few weeks, gave her some of her favourite treats. Told her ‘I love you’ and left. Never came back. Without another word. She would have been so confused. She probably thinks it was her fault that I didn’t come back. That I left, and abandoned her. And now...she’s gone. And so are we. I won’t even get to meet her pups. All alone...” she breathed lightly, almost not at all as he felt a warm wetness fall through his shirt. His heart broke as he felt the silent tears of a broken woman at his side.

“It wasn’t your fault. It will never, ever be your fault, Kathryn. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.” he refrained from moving, merely letting her lean against him as he felt his own body grow heavy and weak as the extent of her sadness became apparent. “She knew you loved her.” 

He felt her shift, and then the cold skin of her palm press lightly into his upward turned one, lacing her fingers with his. At first they were soft and resting, but with a new confidence and almost urgency, he found her holding on for dear life as she squeezed his hand. His warmth spread through to her, and for a moment, he felt a chill run down his spine as the icy touch of her fingers pressed into his skin. 

They were wordless, silent as he held her hand and they leaned against each other as she wept for a forgotten soul, and he wept for a broken one. The rawness of her emotion was crippling to both of them, and as she reached out and wrapped her arms around his chest, a low sob racked her and he held her close to his heart. Pressing soft lips into unruly hair, he was shaking with the enormity of her actions- her coming to him, her reaching out for his comfort. As the realisation of the extent of her pain was made ever more prevalent, her found his arms wrap around her even tighter; instead of relishing the sensation of her lips against his neck, he felt daggers ripping at his heart with every one of her shuddering breaths. For that night, she was the Kathryn that needed Chakotay, and that became his deepest regret.

When her tears subsided, and both were nothing more than empty shells of life, they rose. Silently, he walked her to his bedroom and pulled back the covers, both climbing in without hesitation or second thoughts. He stretched his arm out, and she leaned against him, and they fell into a deep sleep where the only arms of shadows and unwanted thoughts were those wrapped around each other, indefinable in their magnitude.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is welcome!


End file.
